


Drowning in You

by grelleswife



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bassy is in Eldritch mode for a bit, Bathtub Sex, F/M, Grelle is post-transition, Other, Trans Female Character, bisexual Grelle, domestic intimacy, female pronouns for Grelle, genderfluid pansexual Sebastian, part of my main Sebagrelle AU, they're married in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 10:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: A demon, a reaper, and romance? Just add water.





	Drowning in You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a Tumblr mutual who requested a bathtub scene with Grelle and Sebastian. As mentioned in the tags, this takes place within my main Sebagrelle AU, "You Reap What You Sow," though this fic is set several years before the events of "Springtide." Also, Grelle has fully transitioned, and she and Sebastian are married. :3  
You'll notice that I've added "other" as a relationship category in addition to "F/M." This is because I headcanon Sebas as genderfluid. That being the case, "male" is too simple a label to fully capture his essence, and I realized that my tagging should probably reflect that.  
At this time, Yana hasn't given us Grelle's canon cause of death. My thoughts on her suicide below are conjecture and, as such, should be taken with a grain of salt.

Grelle luxuriated in her bath, relishing the decadent bliss of its heat. She sighed contentedly, resting her head against the edge of the steaming tub. Ever since becoming a reaper, Grelle had found herself drawn to water, whether floating aimlessly in the pool for hours on end like the Lady of Shalott, dashing headfirst into the briny waves of the sea, or dancing in the silver rain until her clothes and hair were drenched. She had met her death by drowning, seeking release from her suffering in the river’s cold embrace. _If I cannot live as a woman_, she had reasoned in her isolation and despair, _then I shall at least die as one, like a second Ophelia_. Sebastian had once asked her whether this current penchant for water had its origins in her demise, an unconscious reenactment of her dramatic exit from the mortal realm. Grelle wasn’t sure, but she cherished the escape from gravity that came when she floated, her own self merging with something much more vast and mysterious. Water. Peaceful and soothing, yet capricious and turbulent…truly a woman’s element.

She turned her head languidly when she heard her demon knock at the bathroom door. Think of the devil, and he would appear.

“May I join you, _rufina_?” her husband asked in a voice dark and smooth as black satin. “I thought you could use my services to keep the bath warm.” Demons’ true forms were a composite of heat and motion, and, as Bassy had explained at one point, they always carried the fire of Hades with them. Seb’s warmth was perfectly suited for cuddling…and for keeping the bath nice and hot.

“Of course, _mon chéri_” she drawled, stretching herself like a cat. A moment later, a Thing appeared from beneath the door and crawled swiftly towards the tub. Black as soot, shape roiling, tendrils seething at the edges, a plethora of glowing, crimson eyes and mouths with small, sharp fangs. Not quite smoke or sludge yet akin to both, and mysteriously out of focus when you looked straight at him, as though he didn’t occupy the same plane as you did. Claws gripped the edge of the porcelain bathtub, inky darkness contrasting beautifully with its pure, unsullied whiteness. Bassy had an impeccable instinct for the aesthetic. Little wonder she loved him so.

She took his right hand and brought it to her lips, smiling as it shook ever so slightly. _All these years together, and you still can’t resist me, dear. _Though it was a bit harder to see without her glasses, she could discern that his dozens of eyes regarded her fondly. “My fiend angelical.”

Most “normal” people (though that term was vastly overrated, in Grelle’s opinion) would have found the Eldritch abomination that was Sebastian’s true form to be monstrous and abhorrent. In Grelle’s eyes, it was alluring. She had conquered the demon’s heart, yet a part of him would always be _other_, beyond her comprehension. By building a life with Sebastian, she had embarked upon an eternal quest to know the unknowable. He was an ocean whose depths would take centuries to explore.

Sebastian flowed into the tub in a glistening black torrent, assuming his human appearance in the process. The demon wrapped his arms around Grelle’s waist, pulling her closer while his eyes (still that stunning shade of red that she adored) traveled hungrily over her body. Grelle laughed.

“Here I thought you wanted to keep me warm. You were just looking for an excuse to see me naked, weren’t you, darling?”

“And what if I was?” the demon growled softly.

His hand meandered from the soft skin of her inner thigh to her hip, her belly, before travelling upward to cup one of her breasts. Grelle flushed with pleasure, swallowing the moan that threatened to escape her. A part of her wanted Sebastian to take her this instant, but Grelle reminded herself that the eventual submission would be far more satisfying for them both if she drew things out a little.

“Sometimes I wonder if I married an incubus,” she mused aloud, raising an eyebrow.

“I am no such thing,” Sebastian sniffed disdainfully. “Most of them belong to the lowest ranks of demons, far beneath my status.” He grinned lecherously. “But some of my relations are.” He kissed the side of Grelle’s neck, fangs just shy of piercing her skin.

“_Mmmm_…” Grelle pressed herself harder against him, allowing herself to unravel beneath his touch. Brushing her hair to the side, Sebastian kissed his way with painstaking deliberation along the curve of her neck and over her shoulder. “Lovely,” he purred, tongue raking along the freckles scattered there.

“They’re blemishes,” she muttered self-consciously. A lady’s complexion should be spotless. Unfortunately, reapers’ glamours usually failed to remove the damn things.

“Shush,” the demon chided. “A former master of mine, a great rajah of India, had a fascination with jewels, diamonds in particular. And can you guess which ones he prized above all, Mrs. Sutcliff-Michealis?”

He turned Grelle over so that she lay supine, intertwining his legs with hers. Grelle stroked his back, raw need raging within her as she felt his muscles ripple beneath her hand. The demon smiled in that irresistibly charming way of his, and Grelle’s breathing grew labored. “Which ones, my love?” she asked huskily.

“Those with flaws at their hearts. He believed it was precisely _because _of their imperfections that their beauty surpassed that of other gems.”

“Is that…so?…_ahh_,” She kissed him ravenously, seeking immersion in his darkness. Words slipped away, and Grelle gladly relinquished control to the water that surrounded her and the demon who enraptured her.

_I want to drown in you, Sebas._

Black, the color of nothingness. How somber and sedate, nothing like her beloved, vibrant red. Yet the scarlet reaper gladly lost herself within the black butler’s depths, a live coal in his shadowy sea.

“You’re water,” she whispered, head pressed against the demon’s cheek as they moved to each other’s rhythm. Ever-changing, bringing death and life in equal measure.

“You say such curious things,” he laughed, nuzzling her. Their mouths met, and demon and reaper drowned together.

**Author's Note:**

> The Lady of Shalott: The titular character of Tennyson's famous poem. A noblewoman who lives alone in a tower, the Lady is cursed when she gazes directly at King Arthur's Camelot after the handsome Sir Lancelot catches her eye. Leaving her tower, she embarks on a boat and floats to Camelot, though she dies during the journey.
> 
> Ophelia: The tragic heroine of Shakespeare's Hamlet, who eventually goes mad and drowns herself in a brook.
> 
> incubus: The male equivalent of a succubus. According to lore, a type of demon that preys upon sleeping women and engages in sexual intercourse with them.


End file.
